Welcome! Please note this site deals with adult themes.
This blog is the often amusing, sometimes dangerous den of two British writers of contemporary and paranormal romance, and urban fantasy. Most of our stories are based in the UK and our heroes and heroines are passionate Brits - yes, passionate Brits exist! Come on in out of the cold, pull up a chair and see for yourself...

Monday, 7 July 2014

Peek at She-Wolf

The craziness of last week has slowed down, but I still feel like my head is all over the place. I just can't focus at the moment. It's terrible.

I did have to go tweak a major blip in last weeks post. I noticed I said that there was 2 weeks until the re-release, there isn't. It is two months, because if there was only two weeks then damn, where the hell have I been? lol

So yes, just under two months until She-Wolf and Cranberry Blood are re-released. I finished my final read through and formatting on She-Wolf today. Once I receive my edits back for Cranberry Blood - and at this point I will be sending She-Wolf back to my editor for one final go over - I will be looking over and formatting Cranberry before sending it back to my editor one final time.

*Takes a breath*

During all this it is now time for me to get my head in to promo and I have to say I think this is why I feel all over the place, because I have just finished the release promo for Stepping Stones. So I'm starting all over again, but naturally I want to do something a little different. So, I just have to figure out what, but I have to tell you promo can be tricky, because you really want to do something fun, fresh and engaging for readers. Something that definitely wont happen if you can't think straight. Needless to say I better get my butt in gear, but not right now. Right now, I need to get my butt in bed lol

So, I'm going to leave you with a little excerpt from She-Wolf. Enjoy! :)

~ * ~

The red velvet curtains parted and the verse started. A black iron chair slid along the stage and then stopped, perfectly in the middle. The female strolled out of the shadows, one long leg in front of the other, smoking her cigarette. She wore a large black hoodie, dark denim hot pants, and black leather knee-high boots.
The prickling sensation sharpened along my spine, causing me to shiver.
“Weird fucking costume for a stripper,” Martin said.
Her long black hair hung back in a high ponytail. Black and silver eye shadow framed her eyes, the blended shades bold against her smooth, pale skin.
Smoke rolled along the stage as she stopped before the chair. At the sound of the singer’s voice, she flicked her cigarette to the side and stretched both her arms above her head. She then bent forward until she pressed her hands flat on the stage.
“What is this shit? Bloody keep fit?” Martin grunted.
“Take your fucking clothes off,” Karl shouted.
She pulled herself up slowly, and as the bass guitar kicked in, her body swayed to the right and she fell straight into a spin, which seemed to last forever.
“Looks like the stripper knows ballet,” Robert said.
“Fuck the stripper.” Luke laughed. “How d’ya know that’s ballet she’s doing?”
“My little sister has studied it for years,” Robert said, his focus glued to the stage.
The woman dropped into splits. After a moment, she brought around her right leg from behind to join her left, and then fell backward. She pushed herself off the floor, then jumped up and landed on her feet. A wicked grin curled the corners of her mouth as she rolled down the zip of her hoodie, exposing inch by inch of creamy, pale flesh.
The familiar sweet scent touched my nose once more, growing more potent with each second, battling against the other smells to stand apart.  With a deep breath, I dragged the stuffy air of the club deep into my lungs, cancelling out each odour until all that remained was the aroma of . . . flowers? Not the sickly fragrance of floral perfume, but actual flowers.
Her hips began to sway as she shrugged off the hoodie and let it fall. The curve of her waist, and the sight of her supple breasts in her black lace bra, made my mouth dry. I knocked back the rest of my beer, hoping like hell it would help my sudden thirst.
The pale blue light caught the shimmer of her glitter-dusted skin as she brought up her right arm and then placed her hand behind her head.
Sizzling heat spread through my entire body as the distinct taste of wild flowers and sea salt exploded on my tongue. The bittersweet mixture filled me, conjuring images of the meadows bordering my father’s manor; of a young girl laughing as I chased her across the grounds, the scent of the sea wafting from her blonde hair.
My Wolf groaned. My blood heated.
“Great breasts,” Luke said.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Karl leaned forward and banged his fists on the table. He threw back his head and howled. Any other moment, I would have found such a reaction hilarious, but I couldn’t pull my focus from the woman on the stage; couldn’t move due to the heavy beat of my heart banging against my ribcage. I knew that scent, would know it anywhere.
She made a slow turn as she loosened her ponytail and shook her head. Her hair streamed down her back like a glossy black waterfall. She finished her spin, then her focus landed on me, and the air caught in my throat.
Her body went rigid. Her sultry gaze hardened as she stared at me.
Clare Walker. I’d know those moonlit eyes anywhere.
What in God’s name is she doing working in a fucking strip club?
Straightening, I tensed as my wolf skimmed the surface. My energy pulsed as his focus zoned in on her. A moment was all it took. My Wolf settled. Satisfaction hummed through me. Acceptance.
What the fuck?
Her jaw tensed, chin tilted up as she stared us both down for a single moment, before she ran and grabbed hold of the stage pole on the right. Her feet left the floor as she wrapped her legs around the brass and spun.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, but the tension didn’t drain from my body.
Her feet hit the floor, the pole between her perfect thighs. She pulled herself upwards, rubbing herself against the warm metal.
Every drop of blood in my body headed south.
She swung round and pressed her back against the pole. Her hands traveled down her breasts, then her stomach, to stop at the waist of her hot pants.
 My jeans suddenly felt too tight, and the sound of my heartbeat drowned out the loud music.

She slid her hot pants down her thighs and . . . .
The neck of the beer bottle broke in my hands.

She-Wolf © Elizabeth Morgan 2014

Releasing August 25th!

No comments:

Post a Comment